


Stitches

by PolarGrizz47



Series: Daemon Overwatch AU [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Kissing, M/M, Shy McCree 2k16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 19:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7067806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarGrizz47/pseuds/PolarGrizz47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanzo pauses, his steps hovering as he glances sideways towards the embarrassed cowboy, a smile twitching onto his lips. “It’s quite alright,” The assassin assures, allowing their hands to brush once more.</p><p>Daemon Overwatch au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'ed. :'D

McCree’s serape has seen its fair share of use and abuse. It's been torn and stitched back together more times than River and Jesse could count. Bullet holes stitched back together carefully and rips sewn together with care.

At least his grandmother taught him to sew, he thinks, eyes narrowed in concentration as he works the needle and thread through a new tear in the old fabric. Sitting in the Overwatch tower’s lower levels in the middle of the night was new to him, as of such, he sat with his back against the wall and head facing the nearest door.

 _Just in case,_ he keeps telling himself while he continues to mend his precious serape. River sits by his side, her muzzle in his lap and eyes half closed while she takes in the lingering smell of cigar smoke. They weren’t allowed to smoke inside anymore, but the drags of smoke still had clung to McCree’s clothes stubbornly. They didn’t mind.

Just as he was done patching his beloved fabric, he heard metallic footsteps echoing down the stairs. His own dark eyes lift quickly, River snapping into attention as they both look towards the entrance. The footsteps pause and McCree sighs heavily as he spies Hanzo’s tattooed hand curling around the door frame.

The assassin raises a brow before completely stepping into the room, Aiko hovering in the hallway behind him. “Am I interrupting?” He questioned, gesturing vaguely towards the cowboy and the coyote.

“Nah,” Jesse says, setting aside his serape and carefully setting out to place the small needle and thread back into its rightful case. Hanzo is surprised when the outlaw places the thin sewing case back into a pouch attached to his belt. “Just finishin’ up, actually.”

“You sew?” Hanzo mutters to himself, stepping closer into the room to get a better look at the stitching on the serape. It looks neat, or, as neat as the old fabric could be at this point, falling apart at the seams. “I didn’t realize stitching was a cowboy talent,” He muses with a sly grin, crossing his arms together.

That makes McCree smile, his slightly crooked teeth showing for a brief moment as he lets out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, can’t be a cowboy without knowin’ how to sew.” The man moves to his feet, taking his hat off for a moment as he shoves his head back through the serape and situates it around his shoulders. “If ya can ride a bull, but not sew, well - that just ain’t right,” Jesse smiles at Hanzo, and the assassin returns the gesture with a grin of his own.

Once the hat is placed on its rightful spot atop his head, McCree steps forwards with River trotting along right beside him. “So, Mister Assassin,” He starts, smirking as Hanzo sighs at the nickname, “Ya going for a midnight stroll?”

“I was,” Hanzo admits, uncrossing his arms and shifting his stance. “Care to join me, Mister Outlaw?”

“Well, if ya want me too, I ain’t going to turn down a nice evenin’,” He steps closer, sending the slighter man a grin as a gloved hand reaches down to pat at River’s head.

The coyote’s sharp green eyes are focused on Aiko’s own red ones from the doorway, both of their daemons' gazes glinting with mischief.

A while later, as they walk side by side in the Overwatch gardens, River won’t stop crowding McCree’s legs and Aiko refuses to drift even an arms length away from Hanzo.

Sandwiched on both sides by their daemons, the two men don’t notice themselves slowly stepping closer until their arms brushed.

The cowboy tensed slightly, his flesh hand gently brushing over Hanzo’s own tattooed one. River pushes him closer, her tail wagging as she notices Aiko pressing her scaled body closer to Hanzo, crowding them in.

Feeling heat crawl up his face, the outlaw drops his gaze to the ground. “C’mon, girl, what’s the matter?” He hisses towards River, the coyote only sending him a fanged grin as their hands brush again.

Hanzo pauses, his steps hovering as he glances sideways towards the embarrassed cowboy, a smile twitching onto his lips. “It’s quite alright,” The assassin assures, allowing their hands to brush once more.

The touch makes him feel warm, happy even. He knows what the two daemons are up to, as mostly Aiko granted him personal space while they moved about the area. Right now she was smothered up against him, pushing him _closer_ towards McCree. He shoots the dragon a slight glare, one that Aiko only returns with a wide, toothy grin.

Jesse still looks unsure, but he relaxes once he realizes that Hanzo wasn’t mad at him.

They spend a great deal of the stroll like that, walking side by side, brushing against each other with the fondness of a couple of cats. McCree even gets the stern assassin to laugh at a couple of his jokes, his own face lightened with a small, kind grin as he watches the shorter man smile.

Yeah, Jesse thinks, he could get used to this.

-:-

Hanzo kept picking at the new hole in his robes. It’d been a glancing shot, the bullet whizzing past him and barely slicing his shoulder open. He’d been lucky that it hadn’t taken his arm clean with it, as surely such a high caliber rifle would have done major damage while his shields were so low.

But it’d left a neat, horizontal slash in his robes, his patterned shirt torn right above the glove. His finger sticks into it as he checks over the cut, seeing that it had long ago stopped bleeding, and instead left sensitive, pink skin in its wake. Annoyed, he pokes at the fabric again, displeased that the bullet had ruined the design on the garment.

McCree’s spurs give away his position as he approaches Hanzo, the metal that clicks together is able to be heard over the strong engine of the carrier they were flying in. Aiko lifts her head, having curled up behind Hanzo as the assassin perched on a makeshift seat made out of supplies. The cowboy frowns, tipping his hat in greeting while River sniffs about at the newly recovered supplies.

“Saw ya take a glancing shot. Mercy said you were alright... just wanted to check for myself,” He spoke softly, concern not at all masked in his voice as he stepped closer.

Hanzo sends him an assuring grin, patting the space beside him. “I am quite alright. However, my robes were not as lucky.”

McCree steps up onto the supplies easily, unafraid of hurting them as they currently were stored in strong, locked boxes. He settles in beside Hanzo, looking at the hole the assassin kept poking at with a contemplative thinning of his lips. He gives a hum, organic hand coming up to rub against the slightly bloodied fabric. “I think I can patch that up for ya,” He says finally, and Hanzo only nods in agreement.

Their thighs brush against each other as they settle in, McCree’s hands tugging out the small sewing kit from his belt pouch and balancing it on his knee as he readies a needle. Hanzo watches with baited breath as the outlaw squints, holding the needle and thread tightly and carefully as he loops the dark thread through the eye of the needle. It’s almost cute, Hanzo thinks, how the taller man’s brown eyes narrow in concentration.

Without needing to be prompted, Hanzo shrugs out of his robe, only slipping his scarred shoulder out as McCree sets off t work.

They sit in silence for a long moment, Jesse’s eyes focused on the task in front of him and Aiko’s warm breath tingling at his tattooed arm. Hanzo watches while River lies at their feet, her tail tucked against her belly and ears still perked even though those bright eyes of hers were closed. It’s a comfort that he’s grown accustomed too, nearly all of his free time spent with the cowboy and his coyote. Jesse is warm and familiar against his side, his hands patient and kind as he stitches up the hole gently, expertly.

The frayed edges of his serape tickle Hanzo’s bare shoulder, and the assassin smiles gently to himself, settling a hand on McCree’s knee. “Thank you,” He says a the outlaw cuts the excess thread from the needle and ties it closed.

Jesse nods at him, short and quick, and returns, “Don’t mention it.”

Hanzo squeezes the other man’s knee and nods, slipping his robe back onto his shoulder and exploring the handiwork. It looks as if there never was a hole to begin with, McCree having even done his damnedest to match up the lines of the patterns on the robe. The thoughtfulness makes Hanzo smile even wider, and he glances up at McCree to see that the outlaw is smiling himself, a shy, sort of self-conscious smile that makes Hanzo want to kiss him.

He’d done it before, one night underneath a cherry blossom tree that was out of place in the Overwatch gardens. Pulled the cowboy right down into a soft, delicate kiss, and watched while the usually confident man went red all over and fidgety.

Jesse wasn’t used to caring kisses or touches.

Hanzo wants to change that.

He reaches up, a hand framing McCree’s beard as he turns the man’s head towards him. Dark eyes stare into his own, Jesse tensing again and staring at him with a glimmer of hopefulness. The outlaw relaxes somewhat as Hanzo pulls him into a kiss, his soft lips gently brushing against the chapped ones of the cowboy’s. “Thank you,” The assassin says again, watching while McCree goes red and nods jerkily.

Jesse smiles, though, wider, surer as he leans in and returns the sweet kiss shakily. It’s strangely adorable, and Hanzo gives into it, ignoring Hana’s wide-eyed stare from across the carrier and Tracer’s giggling.

The coyote looks at them now, and even Aiko raises her head before lifting her tail to shield the two men from the audience, rumbling deeply as McCree gives a throaty, embarrassed laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> McCree's gotta fix that old fabric somehow! I think he'd know how to sew pretty well. And embarrassed cowboy is life. He can talk the talk sometimes, but he gets all flustered and shy when he tries to walk the walk. 
> 
> I've love to hear feedback! I love me some Mchanzo. ;__;


End file.
